


First Day

by Filhe



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Background Character Death, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filhe/pseuds/Filhe
Summary: Mareh, the gnome warlock ponders the death of their oldest sister and the deep lonliness that plauges them in the wild. An exploration of an important event in the Folkor Clan.





	First Day

First day is always the worst day. 

Mareh knows this. Their steps are heavy, pressing their lithe body down into the ground. Mareh shakes their head as they lean down to pick up wood. Stopping every once in a while, standing perfectly still. A breeze rustles the leaves. A musky scent wafts through the clearing. Breath coming out in puffs of smoke. The gnome has lived here for so long, that they could have sworn that they could feel any movement in the area. 

Even though their heart feels heavy. As heavy as the wood in their arms. 

They miss the clan. Even after the somber occasion that marked the gathering had felt nice. Preparing the body of Marin, their sister to the grave. One of the oldest sisters, so old that Mareh barely knew them. Only as a funny thing that always told stories, a gummy laugh bellowing through the gathering. Exchanging icy barbs with certain members, keeping Lilligeant, Tori's only child, close at all times. Almost like a overprotective she-wolf. 

It would be odd without her now. 

It felt odd sitting there then. With everyone present, their mouths closed. Everyone had an opinion on her, but those were neither there nor here. But it was nice sitting there with everyone, singing praises to Gods. The deceased had never been particularly religious but it was tradition.

A good one. It was nice to not feel alone during a great grief like this.

But now Mareh is alone. Back where they know they belong. As much as they miss the clan, laughing and loud as they were, their place was here. Under the vast trees that stretched for miles. If the clan or patron needed them, they would be summoned. Mareh unloads the wood, and gets back to building the campfire. These thoughts made their chest hurt. Making a note to pray to the Earthcaller, the God of death, to watch over the rest of the clan later. That would ease the pain of the first day in the wilds. They hoped. 

But first, breakfast was in order. 


End file.
